Garter Girl
by jibbsloversunited
Summary: The title is self-explanatory. A short story from the collection of elflordsmistress.


**Author's note:**

These were originally companion pieces. I've decided to post them together this time around.

* * *

**Naples, Europe**

**Early 1999**

Jen pushed back on the rolling office chair as the Senior Agent in Charge droned on and on.

Just shy of the table's edge for a heartbeat, and then further away until she could cross and uncross her legs once in Jethro's direct line of vision. She smiled as he tightened his grip on the pen he was holding, and stood from her seat.

She walked slowly over to the coffee pot at the other end of the room. Feeling the heat of his gaze as she leaned down to smoothen an imaginary wrinkle. Cradling a mug in her hands she leaned back against the counter and, even as she listened to what was being said, slipped her left foot out of her shoe and rubbed it discreetly against the other one.

She was intensely aware of the straps digging into her flesh, and the cool air from the air conditioning unit grazing the skin of her buttocks and thighs, but the sense of power was virtually indescribable.

She was around men all day; men who would be even more crazed with lust if they had half an idea what she wore to work. But the biggest power trip came from knowing that Jethro knew _exactly_ what she had on – and that it drove him crazy.

And she enjoyed teasing him. Mercilessly even.

Because sooner or later he snapped - and cornered her.

In an elevator. In an empty conference room. In the copier room. Even in the supply closet. Forcing her legs apart and running his hand up her thigh as he nuzzled her throat. Grazing the sensitive flesh with a callused palm as he sought to discover whether she'd worn her panties under or over the garter belt.

She loved putting stockings on for him, too. Especially in the mornings, after she'd slept at his place and they were travelling to work separately.

She got a kick out of watching him watch her as she gathered up the stocking in concertina formation so that only the toe dangled down. Enjoyed him squirming as she picked her foot off the floor, bent her knee, pointed her toes into the stocking's silky embrace and then worked it very carefully up her leg with slight undulations of her wrists. Loved becoming more and more aware of his arousal as she twisted her hips to the side for the silk to pull tautly against the first strap, and then against the second. Smiling when he scooted a little closer to her as she repeated the ritual with the other stocking. Occasionally indulging him as she twisted round to reach the tricky back strap.

Letting him help.

She loved all of that - but probably not as much as he loved taking the stockings _off_ her.

"And?" a hoarse voice asked, and she looked up to find him beside her, reaching for the coffee pot.

"Guess .." She gave him a mischievous little smile as she slipped her shoe back on.

"Over. Jen?" he growled as she started to walk away.

She tossed him a look that spelled trouble over her shoulder as she started to walk back towards the table.

"Commando," she whispered.

Although he had work to do, the comment stayed with him; bringing him moments of visceral pleasure throughout the morning.

He forced himself to focus, but at odd moments his concentration would be shattered by the thought of Jen in garter, stockings … and no panties.

The swish of nylon when she walked past his desk didn't help either, and at one point his hand visibly shook as he tried to he held his peace and his distance till lunch. Enjoying his arousal but feeling no real compulsion to act on it.

Until she walked up behind him at the coffee station and rubbed a leg against his.

Even through his pants the contact sent a frisson up his spine - and suddenly he wanted payback.

"_Conference room_," he ground through his teeth. Unable to keep his eyes off her legs as she pivoted immediately on her heel and walked purposefully towards the elevator.

His arousal kicked up a notch as the doors slid closed behind them and he turned to find her already standing in the corner. Baiting him with a tongue that ran delicately along her upper teeth without breaching her slightly parted lips, and with eyes turned incandescent by the garish light in the elevator car.

"Commando, huh?" He was almost having trouble finding his own voice as he pressed her against the handrail and caressed her knee. Tracing a path up her thigh until his fingers bypassed the welt and confirmed that she'd been telling the truth.

His breath hitched in tandem with hers as callused fingertips encountered moist flesh, and he rubbed her gently a few times. Just enough to make her squirm, and press against him seeking more. He licked the side of her ear before smirking against her neck – and the slight punch to his arm told him she'd copped on.

"You bastard ..." He could hear the barely contained laughter under the frustration, and the smirk became a little bit more pronounced.

"Uh-huh." He withdrew his hand just as she tried to clamp it between her thighs, and pressed a hard kiss to her mouth. Enjoying the sight of her eyes fluttering closed at the contact, but putting distance between them as she reached for his belt loops.

Her head dropped back into the corner and she exhaled loudly before opening her eyes and looking straight at him.

"I hate when you do that."

"You love it."

Jenny looked sultrily at him from under long lashes, and for a moment he struggled to remember why he wasn't buried inside her already. But then she reminded him.

"Dinner at home later?"

_Later_. That was the operative word. _Later_.

Five hours or so till they went home, unless something came up. Five hours of smelling her arousal on his fingertips was going to drive him out of his mind; and that was going to be amplified any time she was close to him. But waiting in a perpetual state of arousal would make the reward exceptional, and age had brought _some_ modicum of patience with it. Even if suddenly he was glad he'd done all the important paperwork.

"Jethro?"

He snapped out of his musing and looked at her.

"The sheer sevens with the line," he said as he pulled her skirt down and set the elevator in motion again.

"For dinner?" she teased.

"The only thing on the menu is _you_," he whispered into her ear as the doors slid open.

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**Author's note:**

In my universe Gibbs loves stockings and garter belts.

So just to explain what Gibbs is on about towards the end, in case anyone needs a quick crash course.

_Sevens_ refers to seven _denier_. That's really sheer in terms of stockings.

By _the line_ he means those stockings with reinforced heel and toe (aka RHT) which have a seam down the back.


End file.
